With their bright hair wimple-hooded: gather now to the palace-gate
Kriemhild’s own bower-maidens in lovely vesture arrayed;
Decked with their jewels came they, many a winsome maid.
Fifty-and-four were her fair ones, the maids of Burgundia-land;
There were none of such high-born lineage as they of her queenly band:
The silken snoods fair-jewelled mid their golden tresses shone.
Sooth, all that the King had prayed for, with right good will was it done.
All of the costliest loom-work and the best that earth bestowed
Was the vesture of their arrayal as to meet those guests they rode;
With the lily and rose of their faces it blended in harmony.